


settle our tensions for a moment to grieve

by OnyxSphinx



Series: newmann one-shots [161]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash, set right after they get stationed together in the hk shatterdome, they're still ~enemies~
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24885739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnyxSphinx/pseuds/OnyxSphinx
Summary: When a Jaeger goes down, leaving Hermann in a less than great frame of mind, Newt decides to put aside their rivalries for a moment and offer comfort instead, in the only way he knows Hermann, stuck up pseudo-Brit that he is, will understand: tea.
Relationships: Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Series: newmann one-shots [161]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1286762
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20
Collections: Pacific Rim Bingo 2020





	settle our tensions for a moment to grieve

**Author's Note:**

> anon asked: "prompt: I don’t believe in ghosts. Never have, never will. What a stupid concept honestly. “Roaming the earth because of unfinished business” like please. Go home you’re dead."" and for my pacific rim bingo square, "jaeger goes down"

The LOCCENT is the hub of activity in the shatterdome; on any given day, you can walk into it and find j-techs scurrying too and fro, chatting to each other and relaying information and the _click-clack, click-clack_ of keys as they input information into the systems and write up reports.

Right now, though, the LOCCENT is quiet. So quiet, in fact, you could hear a fucking _pin_ drop—Newt would know, in fact, because someone just dropped a pin, and he heard it just fine. A hysterical laugh bubbles in his throat only to die away before even a whisper of it escapes.

The vital signs are non-existent; the Gages’ yells cut off barely a moment ago when their radio was destroyed by Insidia’s crushing blow.

On the screen, Insidia withdraws its arm from the Jaeger’s torso, pulling with it a mass of cables like it’s a honey-badger pulling a claw from the centre of a bee’s nest, the coolant pouring out over the kaiju’s hide only making the comparison starker.

 _God._ He’s getting fucking _poetic._

“Kaiju signal on the move,” croaks a j-tech after a few moments.

Tendo closes his eyes and swallows; rising fully, and straightens his back, shoulders taut. “Marshal?”

“Get Crimson Typhoon prepped for drop,” the Marshal commands; and then, when no one makes a move to the Jaeger bay, barks, “well? Get to it!”

“Dude,” Newt says, finally, turning to Hermann, “did you _see_ those _claws?_ God, I wonder if they’ll let me take a look at the damage—I bet I could get some _wicked_ data from that.” He’s rambling and he knows it; and it’s hardly the most appropriate thing to say, but he has to say _something_ because if he doesn’t, god, he _swears_ he’s just going to shut down—

Hermann’s face flushes. “Have you _no_ respect, Geiszler?” he snaps, and, _good._

Newt grins; too wide and sharp. “I mean, if they’d listened to me on the armour updates—”

“Geiszler! Gottlieb!”

Newt turns. “Marshal Pentecost, sir?”

“Now is not the time for arguing, gentlemen,” he admonishes; face unreadable but eyes flinty. “We’ve suffered a great loss today, and I need the two of you to not be distracted by petty rivalries. You’re some of the program’s most important science officers.”

Hermann scoffs. “I’d be much more _effective_ if I didn’t have to contend with Doctor Geiszler’s presence—” Pentecost levels his gaze at the mathematician, and Hermann’s jaw snaps shut with an almost-audible _click._

“Good day, doctor,” he says, after a moment, and gives a slight nod, striding over to speak with Tendo.

“Is there something you’d like to say, Geiszler?” Hermann snaps, catching Newt looking at him; shoulders tensed and daring Newt to argue.

For a second, he almost gives in; and then in his periphery the kaiju stats fluctuate again and draw his attention back to them and Newt remembers, oh, yeah; he should probably get that data down. “Nah,” he says, with a shrug. “I’ve got better things to do.”

Hermann puffs up; face going splotchy, and Newt would stick around to listen to him scream because as hot as Newt usually finds Hermann, it’s intensified when they’re arguing, but now’s not the time for it and even Newt can recognise that, so he turns away and goes over to one of the j-techs to ask for some printouts of the data.

* * *

A few hours later, after Horizon Brave finally takes Insidia down, Hermann comes into the lab; his cane hitting loudly against the concrete of the floor, noticeable because the shatterdome is still quiet as all hell.

Newt turns to start an argument or something, but he catches sight of Hermann’s face and stops. The mathematician’s lips are pursed thin and tight, the froggishness more pronounced than ever, and he’s tense; his eyes unfocused; frown lines carved even deeper than they were when Newt saw him a few hours ago.

So Newt pauses, and thinks for a moment, and then says, softly; “Hey.”

Hermann’s gaze snaps to his. “What,” he says; not even wary but just _exhausted._

“Uh. D'you want some tea?”

The other’s face contorts. “Now is _not_ the time for your—your _mocking!_ ” he hisses; face starting to go splotchy again, and Newt raises his hands placatingly.

“Not mocking, I swear—I’ve got a box of Earl Grey.”

Hermann squints at him. “Proper tea?” he asks; and then, when Newt nods, frowns. “You don’t drink tea,” he says, “why would you have _tea?_ ”

Newt looks away. “For a friend,” he says, not mentioning the fact that that _friend_ was _Hermann_ and he bought the tea three years ago right before they met so he could give it to Hermann and has been carrying it around with him ever since. “Anyway, it’s none of your business. Do you want it or not?”

“…alright,” the other says, after a beat, and Newt rises, crossing the lab and opening the door to his quarters—for once, Hermann doesn’t complain about Newt crossing the line because their rooms are on the opposite sides of the lab from their sides—, and ducks in, hunting around for a moment—not because he doesn’t know where it is, but because Hermann would totally notice if it only too him ten seconds to find it.

When he comes back out, Hermann’s taken out the electric kettle and filled it, and it’s heating up, so Newt gets out a set of mugs from the cabinet and a package of Nescafe, and offers Hermann one of the mugs and the box of tea.

Hermann gives him a surprised look; and, for a second, Newt thinks he’s going to say something, but instead he just takes it with a small nod and, once the kettle dings, pours water over his teabag.

They remain silent, sipping their respective drinks, and then, suddenly, Hermann says, “The Gages didn’t die at the same time.”

“What?”

“Tevin died first,” Hermann clarifies, quietly. “So…so for a few moments, his brother was Drifting with a dead man. A—a ghost.”

Newt gives an uneasy laugh. “I don’t believe in ghosts,” he says; “never have, never will. What a stupid concept, honestly. "Roaming the Earth because of unfinished business” like, please. Go home. You’re dead.“

"You _know_ that’s not what I mean,” Hermann says; but it’s lacking its usual bite, and he takes another sip, closing his eyes, hand gripping his cane. “Can you imagine? So many pilots lose themselves even when their partners die when they’re not engaged in a neural handshake…” He trails off; leaving the rest unsaid.

“Jesus. That’s… _dark._ ”

“Yes. Yes, it is,” Hermann says, grimly; and drains the rest of his tea. “I hope it impresses on you how important it is that we focus on our work to ensure that does _not_ happen.” He sets his cup in the decontamination sink and crosses back over the line to his own side.

Newt huffs. “Worst fucking motivational speech ever,” he grumbles, and dumps the remainder of the shitty coffee down the drain and drops his cup in next to Hermann.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me at [autisticharrow](https://autisticharrow.tumblr.com/) on tumblr


End file.
